


winding and new

by Mr_Phich



Series: everyone needs a chance to be small [23]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agoraphobia, Anxiety Attacks, Daddy!Steve, Diapers, Little!Bucky - Freeform, Neurodivergent Bucky, Non-Sexual Age Play, Separation Anxiety, little!Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 07:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14015532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Phich/pseuds/Mr_Phich
Summary: Bucky would rather just stay in the tower forever, but he knows that's not really a choice. It doesn't make leaving any easier.





	winding and new

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends! Sorry about the long, long delay between postings. I got super busy with other fandom projects and life and such and I lost track of the story a little. I'm not quite as emotionally plugged into it anymore, which makes it really hard to write. My plan is this story and MAYBE one or two more and then calling that the end of everyone needs a chance. It's been a wonderful ride, and you are all so amazing and supportive of this work. I've been blown away by the response. So yeah, keep an eye out for one or two more (I make no promises about when, could easily be another year) and then possibly another non-sexual age play series. :)

_ “You can’t crawl back in the dollhouse  _

_ – _

_ You’ve gotten too _

_ big to get in. _

_ You’ve got to live here _

_ Like the rest of us do.  _

_ You’ve got to walk roads _

_ That are winding and new.  _

_ But oh, I wish I could _

_ Crawl back with you _

_ Into the dollhouse again.”  _

 

Bucky was presented with his very own, highly specialized phone eight months, two weeks, and three days after arriving at Avengers Tower. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it really was. Because Bucky hadn’t needed a phone. Not at all, because he needed to be with someone all the time, and he was always in the tower. And he knew that was pathetic and cowardly and weird, that he’d turned into this strange little hermit who barely left Steve’s floor, let alone the tower as a whole. But he wanted to get better, he did, and he’d been working really fucking hard at it for months now. 

And that meant he had to learn to be independent again. Not that he’d ever be independent like he was before - he knew that now. He didn’t like it, he wasn’t okay with it, he still felt guilty as hell about it, but he knew that he needed Steve. That he needed a caregiver. The difference was that now, maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need a caregiver 24/7. He’d managed three whole nights with Clint while Steve was on a mission without losing his shit completely and Annie seemed to think that meant that Bucky could probably interact with the world without having a total mental breakdown. 

Bucky wasn’t totally sure he bought it, but it wasn’t like they were tossing him into the deep end and expecting him to swim. Like everything in Bucky’s life, there was a plan and steps to be taken and so many precautions that sometimes Bucky wanted to say to hell with and jump in the deep end anyhow. (But last week he’d met Jane and Darcy for the first time and even though he’d been having a really good day and he knew they were safe people - not to mention tiny and nonthreatening - he’d totally lost his ability to talk and spent most of the day curled up into Steve’s side, shaking. Which was fucking awful, thanks, so yeah, he’d do all the stupid stages and plans and everything because that was who he was now and people still, somehow, thought he was worth having around). 

All of it had been planned slowly, and mostly without him, so that he couldn’t get nervous about it. And today was the day. Annie and Clint and Steve and he were sitting in the living room. A new backpack sat on the table beside a slim box. Bucky’s heart was pounding and he couldn’t feel his toes. Ice was threatening at the edge of his vision but he wasn’t gonna lose it. He really, really wasn’t. Probably. 

Steve and Clint sat on either side of him, steady as rocks. Steve spoke. 

“Let’s start with your phone, okay Buck?” Bucky nodded, swallowing tight. The phone made him nervous, which was fucking stupid, but he couldn’t help it. He’d played around on Clint and Steve’s before and they were overwhelming. Lots of choices, lots of little buttons Bucky’s fingers couldn’t ever manage. He kind of hated them. 

The phone Steve pulled out of the box looked nothing like them. It was bigger, to start. There were three buttons that Bucky could see, the regular one on the bottom, right in the middle, that Clint and Steve’s both had, and then two more at the top, one on the left and one on the right. 

Steve explained them slowly. “This one,” he said, pointing to the center bottom button, “Will unlock your phone and take you to the main screen.” Steve demonstrated. The little button scanned Steve’s thumb and accepted it with a little clicking noise. The main screen wasn’t like Steve’s or Clint’s at all. Both of theirs were crowded with lots of icons, busy with words and pictures. Bucky’s didn’t have any words at all, just pictures and colors. And there was only one page (Clint had five overwhelming, messy pages of apps that had completely overwhelmed Bucky the first time he’d asked to play with it.) There were fourteen apps on Bucky’s phone and that was it. 

Bucky thought he could probably manage fourteen. 

Steve pointed at the right top button on the phone. “This one will call me and alert me that you need me. It will send me your location. Once you hit it, the phone will guide you to a safe place. We - Annie, Pepper, and I - set up a whole network of people that we made sure were safe. They’ll let you go sit in their backroom or a quiet space until I can get to you, okay?” 

Bucky blushed and stared at his knees. He didn’t know if he felt pleased or mad or embarrassed or guilty or all of it all at once. He tried to breathe. Steve pressed a little beanbag into his hands. It was heavier than it looked and Bucky let his thumb and index finger roll it, finding the heavy, weighted beads one by one. The weight and feel of it in his hand was familiar and soothing. 

“What - what didya tell them?” Bucky asked. He couldn’t get his words loud enough and he felt like a shadow for it, not quite all the way himself. 

“We’re actually going to make the system public - available for veterans and other people with PTSD or sensory sensitivities. People will need a letter from a therapist, but, well. It’s going to be a really good thing. So that’s all the people who own the safe spaces know, that you’re a part of this network. There’s a card in your wallet - you just show that to them and they’ll let you in. That’s all they know, Buck, I swear.”

Bucky nodded. His ribs felt like they were starting to freeze and if he breathed too deep they might shatter, but he knew that was a lie, that it was just because this was overwhelming and scary and he breathed a little deeper, feeling his ribs stretch and contract just like they were supposed to. He glanced up at Steve. Steve had a worried little look on his face. Bucky wanted to roll his eyes, so he did, and Steve smiled. Bucky grinned back. 

“Hurry up,” Clint said on his other side, bouncing up and down and making the couch shake with him. “I want to show him the games Tony made for us. They’re so fucking cool!”

A tendril of excitement managed to creep into the swirling mass of emotions in Bucky’s gut. Games of any kind with his brother were fucking awesome. Video games were one of the best parts of the future, in Bucky’s opinion (after Steve and Clint and probably medical advancements and endless hot water). 

Steve laughed at Clint, which eased the tight knot in Bucky’s belly, let him grin a little wider. Steve  pointed to the button on the right top, “Press this one if you’re starting to feel overwhelmed, okay? JARVIS will ask you a couple quick questions and then tell you what coping mechanism you should use to calm down based on what you’re feeling and where you are and who’s with you.” 

That was fucking brilliant. Bucky could hardly ever remember what he was supposed to do when he got upset. Usually that didn’t matter - Steve or Clint or Thor remembered for him and it was fine. But out in the world? Yeah, Bucky was going to need someone to tell him what the fuck to do if he got into one of those overpowering, terrifying moods. 

“That’s good.” He muttered, smiling gratefully at Steve and Annie, hoping they understood everything he couldn’t say. Steve grinned, big and generous. Steve always understood, somehow, like maybe he was the only one who spoke the language that Bucky’s body spoke these days. Bucky pressed his left side up against Steve, soaking up the warm steadiness that was Steve. Fuck, he was so lucky to have Steve. 

“The safespace network and coping skills also have app icons, so you can access them for non-emergency situations.” Steve showed them to him on the screen. The one for his coping skills had a little caricature of Annie for its app icon, which made him laugh and Annie grin, big and bright. The safespace network had a little picture of a house with a light on inside. They sat side by side in the top row of his apps. Pointing to the icon next to those two, Steve continued “This one will help you if you’re having a bad word day.”  

Steve opened up the app. The front page had lots of little straightforward messages - things that Bucky might need while out and about.  _ My names is James.  _ (They’d decided to go with James Rogers as an alias. The world hadn’t yet managed to put together James Barnes with the Winter Soldier and nobody knew he was living with the Avengers. At least, not yet).  _ Sometimes it’s hard for me to talk, but I can still understand you. I’m lost. I need help. Where’s the bathroom. How do I get to  _ (when he pressed that one, it took him to a list of place names). When he pressed each phrase, the phone spoke it aloud in a voice that sounded remarkably like his. 

“Tony and JARVIS used recordings of your voice to create this, so that it could actually sound like you,” Steve said softly. Bucky grasped his silicone dog tags and slid them between his lips, chewing carefully. It was an overwhelming gesture. Bucky still had a hard time talking in front of the Avengers, most of the time. It was frustrating and aggravating and disheartening not to have his own voice, even with the people who were his friends. Tony had made Bucky a voice. 

That was just so fucking much, he didn’t really know how to process it. He took Clint’s hand and squeezed. Clint squeezed back, and said, “Can I show him the games  _ now? _ ” 

Steve chuckled and nodded, handed Bucky’s phone over to Clint. Clint burst into an over excited ramble about the games that Tony had designed for them - something about the game  _ Pokemon Go _ which Bucky had never heard of, and collecting space ship pieces and having to walk a certain distance and did Bucky think he could make it to Central Park tomorrow because there were like 50 pieces there and Clint had wanted to start playing last week but Steve wouldn’t let him without Bucky. 

They were interrupted sometime later by Annie gently clearing her throat. Bucky looked up and blushed, realizing that he and Clint had been chattering away about the game for at least fifteen minutes. Oops. 

“I’m glad to know that the games will be as motivating as we hoped,” Annie said, teasing a little. Bucky’d known her long enough now to know she was teasing, but he still felt a bit uncomfortable with it (He wanted Annie to like him, okay? And he knew that she did and that people teased and it was okay but sometimes his brain got confused about what was teasing and what was real). Steve’s hand on his back helped. 

Steve took him quickly though the rest of the apps. He felt a little overwhelmed by all the stuff they’d had designed especially for him. It made him feel shitty, that they’d been working on all this stuff and he still couldn’t do shit in return. And it was one thing to know that all his friends had been working on ways to support his independence and another thing completely to be presented with this hugely generous gift, tech designed just for him and his needs (of which there were a fuck-ton). 

And it didn’t end with the phone, not at all. 

Next Bucky was given a new backpack, black and simple, loaded with everything he could need. In the front part there was a wallet, a battery pack and charger for his phone, and a collection of his favorite grounding objects (a spare set of dog tags, a container of play doh, a couple weighted bean bags like the one now sitting on his knee, a stuffed fish filled with lavender, and a little blanket made of squares of different textured fabric). The second part was loaded with a change of clothes and a stack of spare pull ups and plastic bags, so he could throw them out privately. (Bucky did his best not to blush, but failed. Fucking hell, he hated that he had to carry this shit with him.) There was also some of his favorite protein bars, tucked into interior pockets. The backpack, itself, was weighted, with heavy straps that would sit on his shoulder and give him deep pressure to help him keep calm. 

Bucky’s words locked up. They’d thought of everything. He leaned into Steve, eyes closed with overwhelming gratitude. Steve’s arm came up and around him, tugging him in close and tight. 

“The goal, as you know,” Annie said softly, “Is independence. That’s a ways off and there’s no rush, okay Bucky?” 

Bucky nodded into Steve’s body, brought his hand up to sign  _ yes _ as well.

“And for now we’re just gonna work on getting you out of the tower once a week, okay? You’ll start tomorrow with Steve and Clint, just for five to ten minutes.” Bucky nodded again. 

The thought was fucking terrifying, but they’d been working toward it for weeks now. Everything else was going alright - Bucky came and went in the tower as he wanted. Usually he dragged Steve or Clint or Thor along with him, but sometimes he managed on his own when he was big. He had to have one of them around if he was gonna be little, but Annie told him that was perfectly normal. She talked a lot about his mental age and developmental stages and other shit that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Bucky, but it was nice to have the “you’re not totally crazy” stamp of approval anyway. 

Everything was still better with Steve around. Bucky didn’t think that would ever change. And he didn’t care if it did, no matter what anyone else had to say. Steve was the center of Bucky’s everything. Bucky knew that wasn’t entirely healthy, but he didn’t really care and it didn’t seem like Steve did either, so it was alright. 

“I don’t wanna do it ‘lone,” he mumbled, surprising himself. Steve tucked Bucky a little tighter against his body. Bucky peeked up, catching a frown on Steve’s face which made his stomach clench and the tips of his fingers go a little fuzzy.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Steve said firmly. 

Annie nodded her agreement, and added, “Independence doesn’t mean that you have to do it by yourself, it means that you have the choice to do things by yourself if that’s what you want and the ability to do them if you need to.” Annie paused, her face growing thoughtful and reassuring and Bucky took a deep breath. “And you might never be able to be fully independent. You might always need a caregiver for some things, and that’s okay. We all just want to make sure that you get to live a full life, alright?”

Bucky nodded, cause his throat felt a little tight. He always felt confused when they talked about this stuff. Sometimes he felt bad that he needed a caregiver, but not as much as before he met Sato, because she helped him understand that lots of people needed caregivers and that it really was alright. But he also didn’t really want to do things by himself like most people did - he didn’t want to have his own apartment or go places by himself. He and Steve had been talking about Bucky having his own room, when they did a renovation later this year, and Bucky didn’t even know how he felt about that. He liked being all squished up in Steve’s space, but he knew it wasn’t normal. And he worried that he took too much - from Steve and Clint, but also from Thor and all the other Avengers. But there was also a part of him - a small part - that was excited about being able to do things on his own again, and that made him feel ungrateful, like he took Steve for granted. 

Bucky shook his head a little to clear it. “What’re we gonna do t’morrow?” 

“I thought we might start with a little drive,” Steve suggested. Bucky caught Clint’s disappointed face, even though he hid it quickly. 

“But the park?”

“I think that might be a little stressful for our first outing,” Steve said softly, and fuck it he was probably right. “Maybe in a few weeks we can try Bryant Park? That’s only a few blocks down.”

Bucky slumped, but nodded. He wanted to go play with Clint, he wanted to so much, but he knew that once he got to the entrance of Stark Tower, he wouldn’t remember that excitement. Bucky fiddled with his dog tags, bringing them up to his lips to mouth at as his thoughts swirled unhappily around his head. 

“Let’s worry about one day at a time,” Annie reminded, voice gentle. “I want you to practice using your phone to communicate over the next couple of days, okay? And play around with the different apps until they start to feel familiar.”

Bucky nodded to show that he understood. Annie got up and started to say goodbye. Steve walked her to the door and Bucky could hear them talking quietly, probably about him. 

“Sorry we can’t go t’the park,” Bucky told Clint, who scooched a little closer. 

“It’s okay!” Clint said quickly. “Let’s play with your phone!” 

With Clint squished close, their heads bent together to look at the phone, it was hard to stay all the way big. He could tell that Clint was getting littler too, and by the time Steve came back in, Bucky was almost all the way there. 

Daddy could tell. “Hi boys. You ready for some lunch?”

“Yuhuh Daddy!” Clint said, scrambling up to his feet and bouncing over to Daddy for a hug. Bucky stayed where he was, cause his body was feeling a little confused and he knew Daddy would come to get him. 

“Let’s get you boys in some comfier clothes, okay?” Daddy said as he scooped Bucky up. Bucky pressed close and nodded his chin into Daddy’s shoulder. 

“Can we wear PJs Daddy?” Clint asked, bouncing along beside them. 

Daddy smiled and nodded. “That sounds like fun.” 

Clint picked out pajamas for Bucky and himself and brought them over to the bed. 

“Do you want a pull up, roo?” Daddy asked softly. Bucky hesitated. Lately, he’d been really confused about wearing protection. For a long time, Bucky didn’t wear any protection during the day, not even when he was little, unless they were going to be around other people. Daddy didn’t mind, Bucky knew, even though it meant he sometimes got his pants and the floor, and sometimes chairs or even Daddy, all wet and yucky. Bucky didn’t like havin’ accidents like that. They made him feel bad about himself. Accidents weren’t as bad when he was wearin’ protection, cause they were real easy to clean up and when he was wearin’ protection it was almost like he was  _ s’posed  _ to have accidents. Sometimes that was what Bucky needed - to just know it wasn’t his ‘sponsibility for a while. Sometimes he needed that so much he asked Daddy to wear a diaper instead of pull ups. 

Bucky got worried, though. He got worried that if he wore protection all the time he’d stop tryin’ to go potty, and maybe it would get worse and worse until he couldn’t tell  _ at all _ and he just had to wear a diaper all the time cause he couldn’t ever go potty on time. 

Bucky shuddered. 

“Nuhuh. Undies.” Daddy nodded and smiled and went to get Bucky some undies. Bucky watched while Daddy helped Clint put his pull up on. It made his head feel all crowded and squishy, cause there were too many thoughts, and that made his body feel fuzzy and hard to control. It got so bad that Daddy had to feed him lunch and Bucky could see Daddy bein’ all worried in his head. But there was just  _ a lot  _ and Bucky’s brain was tired from trying not to think about tomorrow, so he didn’t have any words for Daddy. 

He was really relieved when Daddy told them it was time for nap. Clint argued, and fussed, and stomped his foot. Bucky knew those things just made Daddy think Clint needed a nap even more. He was probably right. 

Daddy took them both to the potty before nap and helped Bucky into a pull up, which let him relax a little. It was good to curl up in Daddy’s bed with Clint. Daddy read them  _ Blueberries for Sal  _ and one chapter of their new  _ Magic Tree House  _ book, which were Clint’s new favorite. Bucky didn’t think about going outside tomorrow, or riding in a car, or his new phone, or anything scary at all. 

*

Steve didn’t make him wait in the morning, which was a kindness Bucky didn’t have words to thank him for.  They ate a light breakfast, cause Bucky’s stomach was feeling pretty queasy, but he needed to eat something so he could take his meds. Steve helped Bucky dress in a pair of modified jeans and a t-shirt and, even though they were just going to be in a car for less than ten minutes, a pull up. That was more for reassurance than anything else, cause Bucky was definitely going to piss before they left and even his body couldn’t flip out enough that he’d have an accident in just ten minutes. But...just in case. 

He didn’t like the fact that somehow, somewhere along the line, protection had become  _ reassuring _ rather than just  _ humiliating. _ Of course, it was still humiliating. The two conflicting feelings coexisted, though, much to his frustration and confusion. But he put that out of his head. It wasn’t like he needed help feeling confused and overwhelmed today. 

The hardest part of getting ready was actually putting his shoes on. For whatever reason, Bucky’s feet were ridiculously sensitive. Isaac had told him that it wasn’t unusual for people with SPD, but it was fucking annoying. Even most socks made Bucky want to squirm out of his skin. Generally, Steve didn’t make him wear shoes in the tower. Sometimes when they went out into the public spaces he had too, but he could just wear those ugly, squishy slippers Steve got him and it was fine. 

Steve had gotten him some slip on shoes that were wide and loose enough that they didn’t immediately make him scream and also looked somewhat adult - Bucky also had a pair of velcro shoes which were mildly more comfortable, but he didn’t believe Steve when he said they were acceptable for adults to wear. Steve had never had very good style sense. 

Once Bucky had pulled on his seamless socks and slipped his feet into the dreaded shoes, they were out the door. Clint chattered cheerfully as they waited for the elevator, though Bucky couldn’t focus enough to say what exactly his brother was talking about. 

Steve took his hand as they stepped into the elevator. “Today we’re going to go down to Tony’s garage and get in the car there. We’ll just drive around the block, alright? So if you get overwhelmed or anxious, we can come back really quickly.” 

Bucky nodded, swallowing tightly. There was a rising surge of panic pressing at his body. He squeezed Steve’s hand and tried to breathe through it. Stupid fuckin’ agoraphobia. 

Steve squeezed his hand back, just as the doors opened on Tony’s garage. They’d been there before. Bucky liked looking at Tony’s car and Steve’s bike, especially when he was big. Today, there was a plain black sedan waiting at the end of the line of ostentatious cars. Tony’s driver, Happy, was leaning against the hood. He stood up and gave them a big, cheery wave, and Bucky bit back a whine of discomfort. 

“We’re all going to ride in the back, okay?” Steve explained, gently tugging him along. “You’ll sit in between me and Clint while Happy drives.”

“What if I need t’be little?” Bucky whispered, a sudden twist of ice gripping at him. 

“That’s okay,” Steve assured. “Clint and I talked to Happy about him being little sometimes. We didn’t say anything about you, but if you need to be, Happy will understand. Plus, he’s seen a lot weirder in his years driving Tony around.”

Bucky forced a small laugh, knowing Steve was trying to get him to relax, and signed  _ thank you _ to Clint, who grinned. He knew it wasn’t easy for Clint to share his little side and it made Bucky feel real warm and loved that Clint had done it just to make things easier for Bucky. 

As they approached the car, Bucky’s breath got fast and shallow. Steve wrapped an arm around him gently. 

“I - maybe not today,” Bucky found himself saying. “Maybe we try next week? I’m not ready. I forgot Nemo. We - we should go get Nemo.”

“Nemo’s in your bag, Buck. It’s going to be okay. Here, why don’t you sit right here,” Steve opened the car door and patted the edge of the seat, “And I’ll get him out, okay?” 

Bucky sat, eyes flicking nervously around the garage. Clint went around to the other side of the car and opened it up, climbing in behind Bucky. He pressed his body close to Bucky’s, resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. 

It helped. 

Steve had crouched down and started rummaging through Bucky’s backpack, which he had been carrying. Bucky reached for his dog tags as he waited, chewing on them nervously. Steve finally pulled out the Nemo plushie, it’s body and the attached blanket already starting to take on that well loved quality of favorite toys. Bucky blushed a little, because he was definitely still big, but took it from Steve’s hands, setting it on his lap. Bucky pet it gently. He slid his thumb and forefinger over the bumps in the blanket, counting methodically. His breath started to come a little easier. 

“You’re doing awesome, Buck,” Steve praised, laying a gentle hand on Bucky’s knee. Bucky didn’t think he was doing very awesome, but it was nice that Steve said so anyway. “This is really hard for you and you’re being really brave.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, trying to believe him. 

“Are you ready to get in the car?” Steve asked gently. 

Bucky heaved a breath and nodded, though he wasn’t sure he really felt ready at all. Still, he took a deep breath and scooched back into the car. Clint rearranged so that Bucky could sit in the middle and Steve slid in after Bucky, so that they were effectively bracketing him between their bodies. It made his breath come a little slower and his heart return to an almost normal rhythm. 

“You’re doing so awesome,” Steve repeated, voice calm and proud, and Bucky let himself relax a little more. “I’m going to close the car door now, okay?”

Bucky nodded, though his breath hitched a little ominously. “Maybe I should go to the bathroom,” he said hurriedly. He knew that he didn’t have to go, he’d  _ just  _ gone, but maybe it would be better if he tried one more time. 

Steve looked at him calmly, gently, and a sob caught in Bucky’s chest. “You just went to the bathroom, Buck. You don’t need to again, and we’re not going to be out very long.”

Bucky nodded, but it was kind of hard to breathe. He just wanted to go back upstairs, to his and Steve’s apartment, and curl up under his weighted blanket and not move for several hours. 

“Can you show me the drawing app again?” Clint asked, leaning into Bucky’s space. Bucky took a quick breath and nodded, grateful for his brother’s insight. It took some fumbling to get his phone out, but that just helped distract him from what was happening. 

One of the apps Tony (and Steve, Bucky suspected) designed for him was this very simple drawing app. The colors were all watery and soft and they blended and swirled together soothingly. It was really more of a sensory thing than a game or anything, but Bucky really liked it. He’d spent almost an hour last night playing with it, just watching the colors mix and turn. 

It was easy to get lost in it and he almost didn’t hear when Steve gently told him that they were going to drive out of the garage now. Bucky’s body went rigid. Steve stroked a hand down Bucky’s back, shushing him. 

“It’s alright, Buck. We’re going to stay in the car and just go around the block, okay? It’s going to be alright.”

But it  _ wasn’t  _ going to be alright, they were going outside and  _ anything  _ could happen. They could get hit by another car or maybe there’d be an emergency and they would have to get  _ out  _ and everything would be loud and people would stare at him and Bucky could lose  _ Steve  _ and then everything would fall apart and he’d be  _ useless _ \- 

“Breathe,” Steve coached, one hand on Bucky’s back and the other on his stomach, gently coaxing him through some deep belly breathing. “We’re going to be just fine,” Steve told Bucky gently. But he couldn’t promise that, not  _ really _ . “Happy’s a very safe driver. Clint and I are here with you and nothing bad is going to happen.”

And slowly, slowly, the litany started to help, especially with Clint and Steve both pressing into Bucky, squeezing him carefully between them and settling him in his skin. And then it wasn’t so bad to peek out the window - the car was mostly quiet and dark, the tinted windows protecting Bucky from people looking at him. Bucky could almost be interested in all those people and what they were doing. The anxiety didn’t go anywhere, not really. It still sat under his skin and sent prickles of cold dancing through his body, but as long as he didn’t pay too much attention to it he could manage alright. 

“You’re doing so good, Buck,” Steve praised, and Steve was  _ beaming  _ as he said. He really did think Bucky was doing good and Bucky could almost believe it. Yeah, he was clutching a comfort toy, and yes he needed Steve and Clint right there, and there was still a long way to go, but he was  _ outside, _ he was fucking doing it even though it was tiny little baby steps. 

He grinned at Steve and Steve grinned back. 

*

Bucky managed to last twenty minutes inside the car, and then, in what Steve thought was a ridiculously brave move, Bucky asked to go in the front door, rather than through the garage. That required them to cross the busy New York sidewalk and get through the crowded lobby of Stark Industries. 

They had to tuck Nemo back into the backpack, so Steve pressed a stress ball into Bucky’s hand instead. Bucky’s fist tightened on it and he bit hard at his dog tags, but Steve could see the determination in Bucky’s eyes and he couldn’t have been prouder. 

Bucky’s agoraphobia had kept him indoors for the entirety of the eight months he’d been with Steve, and Steve had truly expected it to be an uphill battle to get Bucky out in the world again. 

“It’s cold outside,” Steve warned as Happy pulled up to the curb. Bucky swallowed nervously and nodded. It was late November, and the air was chilly as Steve opened the door. He kept a careful eye on Bucky as he did so, noting the quick pace of his breath and his suddenly pale face. “You can do this,” Steve encouraged. 

Clint jumped in, “You’re awesomesauce. You got this.” Clint nudged Bucky’s shoulder playfully and Bucky relaxed a little and Steve shot Clint a grateful glance. He had to do something just for Clint soon, Steve thought. Clint had, by necessity, gotten the short end of the stick when it came to Steve’s attention since Bucky came home. Steve though he’d been doing okay balancing their needs, but Clint was the real champ in this situation. Big and little, he’d proved to be an invaluable support to Bucky and he rarely complained about having to share Steve’s attention when he’d never had to before. 

With a deep breath, Bucky slid out of the car. His body wobbled and Steve quickly braced him, aware of the slick, rain-wet ground beneath them. And then they were walking across the sidewalk and into the warm lobby and Bucky was smiling and smiling. 

Steve waited til they were in the private elevator to give Bucky one of the big, tight hugs he liked so much. “I’m so proud of you bud, you did so good.”

“Thanks,” Bucky whispered, leaning heavily into Steve’s chest. God, Steve loved him  _ so  _ much.

“You were great,” Clint confirmed, sliding a little closer to them. Steve held out an arm, inviting Clint into their hug. The dynamic between the three of them when Bucky and Clint were big was still evolving. He had really different dynamics with Clint and Bucky when they were big, maybe because Steve was Bucky’s caregiver ‘round the clock while when Steve and Clint hung out together while Clint was big, Steve was decidedly off the clock. (Unless something came up, of course, but Clint was coping really well these days.) 

And while Steve and Clint were decidedly  _ buddies _ , Steve was also pretty much always a dad figure to Clint to some extent. The same could not be said of Bucky, despite the fact that he was so much more reliant on Steve. 

“Shall we go up and watch a movie?” Steve invited, leaving his tone open so that Bucky and Clint could decide what headspace they wanted. Bucky was blinking a little tiredly and rubbing his lip absent-mindedly, which usually meant that he was starting to feel little. Bucky almost always liked to be little after a new experience. Steve thought it was because it gave him time to process, but they’d never discussed it. 

Clint had helpfully cleared his day, even though it wasn’t one of his usual little days, so he could be there to support Bucky, but Steve could tell the experience had been trying on him too. Clint was looking tight around the shoulders and eyes, and kept flicking nervous glances back at Steve. So Steve wasn’t surprised when it was Clint who said, “Yuhuh. Can we watch Brave?”

“What do you think, Bucky?” Steve asked Bucky, squeezing his arm around Bucky’s shoulders gently, to remind him he was safe and any choice was okay.

“Yes please,” Bucky whispered, leaning into Steve tiredly. With the confirmation that both his boys wanted to be little, Steve lifted first Bucky and then Clint into his arms, just as the elevator doors slid open to their floor. He carried them into the bedroom, as both of his boys were dressed in inappropriate big clothes and Clint wasn’t wearing protection, which was definitely necessary if they were going to settle in and watch a movie. Steve changed them with deft hands while Bucky played around with his communication app, putting together silly and strange phrases to make Clint giggle. 

Steve smiled fondly and finished getting the boys ready, delivering them to the couch and setting up their movie once they were properly dressed. With the movie started, Steve went into the kitchen to gather snacks. 

He’d only been gone a moment when Bucky came looking for him, looking tense and nervous. Steve stopped chopping vegetables immediately and turned to take Bucky into his arms. 

“What’s a matter, roo?”

“My skin’s all wiggly and nervous,” Bucky whispered haltingly. “This morning was lots and lots.”

“It was a lot,” Steve agreed, tightening his hold to give Bucky some grounding pressure. “And you coped really well, it’s not surprising you’re feeling a little overwhelmed right now, baby. Let’s go make you into a burrito, huh? Will that help?”

“Uhuh, Daddy. And can you stay? W’me and Clinty please.” Steve softened and pressed a kiss into Bucky’s hair. 

“Of course, roo. Let me just finish your lunch. Do you want to stay with me while I do that?” Bucky nodded immediately and snuggled a little closer. It wasn’t surprising that Bucky was feeling a little clingy, Steve figured. He’d had quite the morning. 

But it wasn’t like how it would get in the beginning. Bucky was upset and anxious, but they had strategies and skills for coping with it. Bucky hadn’t had a full-fledged meltdown in weeks. Everyday Steve saw more and more of Bucky as he used to be. Somethings would never be the same. But, Steve thought, Bucky curled up in his lap and Clint snoozing against his side, he didn’t really want things to be the same as they had been. 

He was pretty happy the way things were. 

_ fin.  _

  
  



End file.
